


City on the Edge of Forever: Domesticated

by jinajema



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Compliant to Either Star Trek TOS or AOS, Domestic Fluff, Episode: s01e28 The City on the Edge of Forever, I always picture the AOS characters, If you're okay with the AU of it being 2010s instead of 1930s, M/M, inspired by Observations (janon)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24627076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinajema/pseuds/jinajema
Summary: Jim and Spock are stranded in the City on the Edge of Forever. One day, Jim decides to surprise Spock with a new bookshelf for their apartment. He finds it rather difficult to put together.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	City on the Edge of Forever: Domesticated

Spock glanced up from the book he was reading to the sound of a key jiggling inside the lock. He was still quite unaccustomed to the antiquity of it all - proper books with pages and ink rather than Starfleet issue PADDs, doors that required metal keys to open rather than programmable codes. Quite illogical, given that the current technological capabilities on Terra could permit electronic books and electronic locks, but tradition seemed to stall any change. Still, Spock could not deny the inexplicable satisfaction of turning pages as he read, and in the several months since he and the captain had been stranded in 21st century Terra's New York City - the city on the edge of forever - they had amassed a small collection of novels that were stacked in the corner of their kitchen. 

"Spock!" Jim's muffled voice came from behind the door to their apartment. "Little help here?"

For some reason, the captain insisted on heading out each morning to a coffee shop called "Starbucks," where he typically spent an exorbitant amount of money on a beverage of some sort. Not exorbitant as in objectively expensive, but several dollars over what Spock had determined to be the value of a typical coffee beverage. For the past 137 days since the captain had discovered said Starbucks, he had always offered to bring Spock tea or pastries or "whatever you want, they have _everything_ there," but Spock had always politely declined. This morning, the captain had not offered. 

"C'mon Spock let me in. I know I have a key but my hands are kind of full here, and I can't quite manage to turn..." Jim's voice trailed off.

Spock shut his book, committing the page number to memory before standing gracefully from his seat at the kitchen table. He strode across the small room and turned the knob to reveal his captain, who was carrying not a cup of coffee but a very large cardboard box.

"Mornin', Spock," Jim said, stifling a yawn. Indeed, it was only 6:27, and Jim had left the house at 5:43. He had gotten significantly less sleep than was considered necessary for optimal human performance, but his eyes were still bright and his cheeks flushed from the cold.

"Captain." Spock replied, inclining his head slightly in greeting. "May I ask about the contents of the package?"

"Surprise," Jim grunted as he pushed through the doorway and set the box down on the floor with a resounding thud. 

"Surprises are illogical," Spock replied, quirking an eyebrow at his captain.

"You're illogical." Jim muttered, not intending for Spock to hear his musings yet forgetting the sensitivity of Vulcan hearing.

"As a Vulcan, I am a member of the most logical species of the Federation," Spock supplied helpfully. Jim groaned.

"Have you had breakfast?" Jim asked. Spock rose a single eyebrow once again in response to the unprecedented change in subject.

"Affirmative," he said.

"Good. Then go take whatever it was you were reading into the other room for a bit." Spock's other eyebrow quivered, threatening to jump toward his hairline. 

"Go on!" admonished Jim. Spock gave him a look, yet walked back to the table to retrieve his book and stepped into the other room, closing the door behind him. Several minutes later, he heard a clattering sound, followed by some of Jim's more colorful metaphors. Spock listened as the series of sounds repeated itself in cycles, until a large crash emanated from the adjacent room, followed by a swift intake of breath and several curses. Alarmed to hear his captain's typical reaction to painful stimuli, Spock swiftly opened the door to find Jim cradling his right hand with his left, standing over a disheveled pile of wooden boards. 

"What were you attempting to construct, Captain?" he asked as his eyes continued to survey the mess before resting on the source of his captain's pain. It appeared the captain had taken to punching the boards in frustration.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Jim repeated with a pout spreading over his features. "It's a bookshelf, but I couldn't figure out how to put it together." Spock bent down to retrieve a piece of paper from the ground.

"It seems that Ikea has provided step by step instructions," Spock said dryly.

"I'm captain of a starship Spock, I think I can handle a bookshelf." 

"Obviously not," Spock replied. He took his captain's injured hand in his own and turned it over gently, running his hand over Jim's and checking for signs of damage.

"Your hand will not suffer any long term consequence from your physical altercation," Spock announced. "However, I recommend that you apply ice to the area in order to mitigate the swelling." 

Jim seemed frozen in place, so with a raise of an eyebrow, Spock strolled back to the kitchen to fill a bag with ice. He returned to the living room with the ice and a long piece of cloth that looked suspiciously like one of their dishtowels, torn into bandage sized strips. Spock deftly tied the ice over Jim's hand, occasionally brushing his fingers against his captain's own.

"Um, Spock?" Jim said tentatively.

"Yes, Captain?" 

"Isn't that... Well aren't Vulcans... Doesn't that mean... Don't Vulcans kiss with their hands?" Jim managed, turning a brilliant shade of red.

"Yes, Jim," Spock replied softly, and pressed his lips to Jim's forehead.

"Oh," Jim said. He walked a few feet to his right so he could flop down on the couch, cradling his injured hand against his chest and using his other hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as he usually did when he had a headache. Spock's gaze lingered on his captain before he turned his attention back to the pile of boards on the floor. He assembled the bookshelf in a matter of minutes, following the instructions he had committed to memory, and then rose to assess his construction abilities. He gathered the books in the corner and sorted them alphabetically by author, filling nearly two thirds of the available space. They still had room to grow their collection. Satisfied, he turned to Jim.

"The bookshelf has been constructed." Jim opened his eyes sleepily, and the corners of his lips curved upward as Spock's eyes softened toward him.

"Unf" Jim murmured unintelligibly as his eyes closed once again. Spock continued to look at the sprawled form of his captain and nearly jumped when he heard a single syllable escape the lips of the sleeping man.

"Spock," Jim murmured softly. Spock hesitated for a moment before moving over to the couch and sliding down beside the still form. He pulled Jim's body closer to him, and Jim burrowed his face into his chest. Spock stroked his captain's - Jim's hair until they both were sound asleep.


End file.
